


into the light

by emmram



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: F/M, Multi, Season 3 Spoilers, Weird Disordered and Pretentious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:19:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmram/pseuds/emmram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set through season 3.</p>
<p>d'Artagnan/Constance/Brujon. Deception is the way of the Musketeers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	into the light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breathtaken](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathtaken/gifts).



> WARNINGS: Season 3 spoilers, for all 10 eps. Disordered narrative, second person POV.

_**into the light** _

 

1.

deception is the way of the musketeers.

18.

he crooks one finger and you walk forward as though pulled by a string; he says _shoot,_ and you don’t miss the way everybody else in the room flinches. the war heroes don’t look at you. you imagine the prisoner’s head with a hole in its front, his brains painting the wall behind him, and with a jolt, you realise that you can see the exact same image in the prisoner’s terrified eyes.

_shoot_ , d’artagnan says again, as though bored, and the string moves again.

5.

madame d’artagnan is showing off the wartime recruits. monsieur d’artagnan is silent until he stops in front of you. he frowns and says,  _they’re all too young_ .

you bristle, expecting madame d’artagnan to shout him down. instead, her face lights up in a brilliant smile—hard, and challenging, like you’ve seen so many times over the last two years, but also… something else. _have you seen him shoot_ , she asks, and something wordless passes in between them. there are too many things you do not have the words for now that monsieur d’artagnan has returned, and you _hate_ it.

monsieur d’artagnan smiles at his wife, slow and inviting, and you swallow.

20.

_what_ _did he tell you_ , madame d’artagnan asks.

you're shaking. it’s as though you’re always shaking these days, tense enough to crack your bones and grind your teeth to dust.

_nothing_ , you say, and you’re proud of how easily the word leaves your tongue, how confident and high your voice is. _i have not seen monsieur d’artagnan in over a week._ madame’s grip tightens, and she looks at you, searching. sweat drips down your spine. after a moment, she nods, then releases you. you don’t sag in relief, but it’s a near thing.

8.

you’re tired. you’re so  _very_ tired. it’s nearly sundown, and your shoulders ache like they’re packed with gravel, and your vision is starting to blur. you can barely hold the musket anymore, leave alone focus on hitting the battered target in front of you. you’ve been practicing all day, and you’re almost considering—

_again_ , monsieur d’artagnan barks.

you scowl and let your gaze wander, for a just a minute. madame d’artagnan is standing on the balcony right outside the captain’s office, watching, and your heart freezes. _again!_ says monsieur d’artagnan, louder, and you raise your musket.

16.

in the course of a day, monsieur d’artagnan has had a building fall on him, rescued the king from an assassination attempt, and returned to the garrison to oversee a sparring session. he seems no worse for wear at the mess that night—until everybody else has retired to their quarters. he rises from his chair and turns, goes pale and makes a choked noise, and collapses to the floor before you or madame d’artagnan can reach him.

both of you carry him to the d’artagnans’ rooms above the kitchen (you shiver at the surroundings, at once familiar and profoundly strange). madame runs her fingers lightly over the spectacular bruising over his chest and says softly, _you always were such an idiot_.

you’re—you’re intruding in an intimate moment, and you quickly turn to leave. _wait_ , madame d’artagnan says out loud, and you turn back. _you are never to hide injuries like this_ , she says, her voice hard. _it doesn’t make you a hero—just an unnecessary casualty. fetch the bandages._

you do as you’re told.

 

10.

monsieur d’artagnan is standing absolutely still while his wife slowly and firmly secures every buckle on his uniform. you’ve heard that she had a great part in designing the new uniforms for the returned war heroes, and you wonder, as you watch them from around the door, if she had—

_brujon_ , madame says loudly, and your heart stops in your chest.

 

23.

_head over heart_ , you tell yourself as the nearest red guard hands you a glass of wine.  _head over heart_ .

_so_ , you say loudly, pushing down every fear and misgiving into the box that monsieur and madame had so painstakingly helped fashion, _the future of the musketeers is dead. i’d rather fight with you than mix with the riff raff they’re letting in from the streets_.

_you are willing to fight against your mentor?_ the red guard asks, seemingly more shrewd than history and his mostly empty wine bottle suggest.

_he threw me out to die_ , you say simply. _of course i am_.

 

3.

you are used to madame d’artagnan being everywhere at once, but once the war heroes return, although there are only four of them, it is as though the garrison is full to bursting. you’ve heard stories about all of them, especially monsieur d’artagnan, and you expected more than this man that you eventually see—more from a man who had become a legend; a man who had gotten madame to fall in love with him.

then you hear him boom _cadets, assemble!_ for the first time across the practice yard, see men instinctively scramble to attention, and you learn something else about deception.

 

12.

_head_ , monsieur d’artagnan says, placing a finger on your forehead,  _over heart_ . he pushes that finger in your chest, just over your galloping heart. you nod, unable to find words to say anything. (besides, monsieur d’artagnan has not asked for a reply.)

 

17.

_as much as you an’ athos would like to believe so_ , monsieur porthos says lightly, offhandedly,  _brujon’s not you, d’artagnan. he’s not a lunatic who runs headlong into fights he cannot win, for starters_ .

monsieur’s only reply is a smile. you smile as well. monsieur porthos’ assessment is both a lie and the truth. you are, after all, only what monsieur and madame shape you to be.

 

2.

musketeers are more than mere soldiers; you know this. they are skilled warriors, but they rely on cunning as much as the strength of their swing. musketeers will lie to each other to serve their missions. no one can be wholly trusted to be what they speak; honour and pragmatism lay in uneasy cohabitation here.

madame d’artagnan is so much more than just a musketeer. you wonder what she is hiding.

 

19.

monsieur d’artagnan is the only one who is not surprised when you make a perfect shot and chunks of fruit rain on the floor.  _he’s a musketeer cadet_ , he tells the prisoner, and something warms inside of you at the praise.

before the captain and the war heroes leave to search for grimaud, monsieur and madame take you aside. _i’m proud of you brujon_ , madame says, while monsieur d’artagnan kisses your cheek—you manage to check your joy until the horses have left and madame has gone into the kitchens, but it is a close thing.

 

7.

_he’s my responsibility_ , monsieur d’artagnan says, looking at you.  _i’ll be personally overseeing all his training_ .

normally you wouldn’t dare, but you feel offended on behalf of your fellow cadets. _is that necessary? i’m nothing special_.

_oh, i know_ , d’artagnan says.

 

21.

your ears are still ringing from the explosion, and the heat and smoke around you is making it difficult for you to breathe. madame d’artagnan is unconscious next to you and you are barely clinging on yourself. you cover her with your cloak to protect her from smoke and falling embers are best as you can as you cough and wait and cough and pray.

monsieur d’artagnan emerges through the flaming wreckage like an avenging angel, soot streaking his face and half-glowing embers dusting his shoulders. _constance_! he cries, rushing to gather her in his arms as soon as he spots them. he lifts her, and then finally looks at you. _we’re coming back for you_ , he says. you nod, coughing.

you don’t doubt it.

 

14.

it’s late night and you’re not getting any sleep any time soon—you haven’t slept properly since the fiasco with war veterans and the red guards—and you begin wander down to the yard, hoping to tire yourself into an exhausted, and hopefully dreamless, slumber.

you can hear low voices. monsieur and madame d’artagnan are sitting at the mess table, and you hesitate halfway down the stairs, listening. he’s kissing her hands, finger-by-finger, and there are tears running down his face. _hush_ , madame says, brushing his hair back with a gentleness you’ve rarely seen from her, _hush, d’artagnan, it’s all right. it’s going to be all right_.

you move silently back to your room, and stay awake in bed till the break of dawn.

 

4.

almost from the day he comes back, monsieur and madame d’artagnan practice with swords exactly before dusk. it quickly becomes a spectacle that the whole garrison turns up to watch. in their very first fight, madame manages to bring d’artagnan to his knees with a flick of her sword that sends his spinning away; yours is the among the loudest cheers that resound among the cadets.

madame d’artagnan, however, looks furious. _fight me_ , she says, her sword at his throat, _now get up and **actually** fight me! i’ve been helping training these cadets when you were not here; i am not what i was!_

monsieur d’artagnan stares up at her before nodding and getting up. they salute each other and fight again. this time, he disarms within minutes, but they’re both smiling.

 

22.

_it’s a few weeks yet before general porthos leaves to the front,_ monsieur d’artagnan tells you.  _in the meantime, i have a mission for you, brujon. it is very dangerous, but necessary. do you trust me as i trust you_ ?

_yes, sir,_ you say without hesitation.

_good_ , madame d’artagnan says from across the room, _because we’re about to kick you out of the regiment_.

you only nod.

 

15.

you’ve been watching monsieur d’artagnan sitting at the mess table for a long, long time, nursing a cup of wine. madame d’artagnan is with the queen, and the captain has already come and gone. you pluck up the courage to go and sit opposite him, and neither of you say anything for a while.

_brujon_ , he says hoarsely, _never lose faith in your cause_.

_i have faith in you_ , you say, and monsieur looks up at that, red-eyed and surprised. _and that, i will not lose_.

 

6.

the first time you face off against monsieur d’artagnan, madame d’artagnan hands you a sword and says,  _now make me proud_ . you’re not sure to whom she is talking; both of you smile at her, anyway.

 

24.

you lead the musketeers to the last faction of rebel red guards in the city. you almost die in the process, but the mission is done—and in good time, and you want to relax and celebrate, just for the night. neither monsieur nor madame say anything to you, although the former’s eyes narrow when he spots the bulky bandage wrapped around your arm.

later that night, monsieur holds you to his chest while madame gently cleans and rewraps your wound, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being cherished. it is so hard-earned, so long-coveted, and you almost do not want to leave with the general.

only the thought of their disapproval stops you from saying it out loud.

 

13.

_i don’t whom to be scared of more_ , clairmont tells you one morning, jerking his head toward the d’artagnans.

_count yourself lucky that monsieur d’artagnan isn’t singling you out_ , you say.

clairmont laughs. _yes, thank god for that._ he raises his glass. _thank you for enduring the brunt of that. in the true spirit of ‘one for all’._

you return the salute, but it is half-hearted.

 

11.

you’ve dreamt of madame d’artagnan before. you’re always ashamed the next morning, but it isn’t as thought you could help it. now, though—

now, you’re dreaming of both monsieur _and_ madame d’artagnan, and when you wake up you cannot meet their gazes for the whole day.

(but you can’t stop _wondering_ \--)

 

9.

you begin to trudge back to your rooms at the end of another long day, not looking forward to the stiff muscles in the morning. monsieur d’artagnan stops you at the stairs and hands you a small glass bottle.  _i’ve drawn you a hot bath_ , he says.  _that, and the lavender oil, should help._

with that, he leaves to his own quarters. you stare after him.

 

25.

deception is the way of the musketeers, but it is ineffective without the unique trust that they sow and cultivate.

monsieur and madame d’artagnan are there to wish you well on the day that porthos’ regiment is finally ready to leave for the war. you kiss both of their hands.

_i’ll be back_ , you say. it’s a promise.

 

**_Finis_ **


End file.
